


Hide in Plain Sight

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Fics: Other Fandoms [7]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eliot-Typical Violence, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Ficlet written to the title prompt "Hide in Plain Sight." Eliot gets in trouble, and takes an Eliot-typical way of getting out of it. Hardison is not impressed.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Series: Prompt Fics: Other Fandoms [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/764091
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91
Collections: Peeps Prompting Peeps Server Collection





	Hide in Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shealynn88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/gifts).



> I miss writing for non-SPN fandoms. It's so fun to do something different for a change...

“Hide!” Hardison’s voice is frantic in Eliot’s earpiece and it’s all Eliot can do not to throw up his hands in exasperation.

“Hide  _ where _ , Hardison?” Eliot snaps. This job was cockeyed from the word go, but this is a new level of insane. A dozen assholes with guns are charging with him, the microchip Parker stole is in his pocket, and there’s not a damn place to hide within a hundred feet of him.

“Find a place!” Hardison sounds legitimately scared; he knows Eliot is boned as surely as Eliot does. The assholes fan out, blocking his scant potential escape routes.

“Awesome,” grunts Eliot. 

There’s only one thing to do.

Eliot charges.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” shrieks Hardison.

For a stunned moment, their target’s private security freezes, and then their guns are up. The first round of shots all go wide.

“Hiding!”

The second round definitely won’t miss.

“The fuck choice do I have?”

He has to make sure there’s never a second round.

Forcing powerful muscles to  _ move _ , fucking  _ dammit _ , Eliot crashes into the nearest guard. His first punch is parried, his second lands, his third blow wraps an arm around the man’s chest and positions him as a human shield. Someone fires, close, and the man Eliot holds screams. Pain jolts through Eliot’s torso, but he can’t spare a thought for if the shot was a through-and-through or if the asshole’s elbow jabbed him. Hefting the injured man, he throws him at the next mercenary, rounding on a third, and his senses narrow to the melee. He’s surrounded, and if he tries to think he’ll be a dead man, but if he trusts his instincts...he ducks, he kicks, he punches, he throws, he rolls, he jabs, he doesn’t die for another second, for another, for another, for another, and…

...there’s not another blow.

Panting, Eliot leaps to attention, spinning to meet the next attack.

...there’s  _ still  _ not another blow. His attackers lie on the ground around him, some unconscious, some clutching injuries, one looking at Eliot like he’s the damn devil given life.

_ Well, he’s not wrong. _

“ _ Why are you just standing there? _ ” 

Right.

Giving the frightened survivor a little wave and a grin, Eliot bolts.

His side still hurts.

Yeah, there’s blood.

Fuck this job.

Still, as Eliot sprints and rounds the corner, Lucille is waiting right where she should be, one door thrown open, Hardison waving him on as if a frantic gesture can lend more speed to his legs. 

At least nothing else is going wrong.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” Eliot snarls as he collapses onto the truck bed.

The door slams shut, Nate hits the gas, and they’re off. 

And Eliot realizes...Hardison said the same thing to him, at the exact same time.

“Wait, what?” Propping himself up on an elbow, Eliot eyes Hardison. “Why’re  _ you  _ pissed?”

“It’s  _ you _ , man,” says Hardison in his hang-dog, put-upon voice. “And your damn fighting, and your damn  _ charging the guys with guns _ , and your damn getting shot, and your...damn...your damn  _ face _ , and--”

“What’s wrong with my face?” Eliot demands. “And I didn’t get shot!”

With a petulant moue, Hardison drops to one knee as Lucille jostles around a turn and pokes at a Eliot’s side. Okay, yeah, that hurts. He might have gotten shot. “You scared the hell out of me!” 

An angry retort springs to Eliot’s lips, but it’s DoA under the weight of Hardison’s increasingly worried look. Letting his ire go with a sigh, Eliot puts a hand on Hardison’s...on  _ Alec’s _ ...face, and pulls him close. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m okay.”

“You got  _ shot _ !”

“I’m fine,” he promises.

“That’s not what I want to hear,” Alec says.

Eliot rolls his eyes. “What  _ do  _ you want me to say?”

“Say it won’t happen again.”

“...you want me to lie?”

“Yes,” Alec says, and Eliot can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. “Lie to me. Perfect.”

“It won’t happen again,” Eliot repeats obediently. Alec nods, their faces so close together that their cheeks rush and a shiver runs down Eliot’s back. 

“I’m holding you to that,” mumbles Alec, his lips soft against the side of Eliot’s face, the merest ghost of a kiss.

“It won’t happen again,” and with the promise of more kisses, more affection, from Alec...damn if Eliot doesn’t almost mean it.


End file.
